The Poor Man of Toggenburg - Autobiography of Ulrich Bräker

then run away again. A shudder ran through all my bones. In all haste I ran to the wood; the little dog trotted ahead of me and guided me straight to where father was. He was sitting beside his sledge, with his back against a pine-tree, his leather cap on his knees and his eyes wide open. I thought that he was staring fixedly at me. I cried "Father, father!" but there was no answer. His soul was gone forth, his dear hands were stiff and cold, and one sleeve hung loose from his smock, which he had probably torn out as he wrestled with death. Filled with fear and dismay I raised a loud cry that soon brought my brothers and sisters to the spot. One after another they laid themselves upon the pale lifeless body. Our shrieks rang through the whole forest. He was brought home on his sledge, where mother and the little ones joined their lamentations to ours

. One poor lad ate the soup that had been left for our dear father.

Ten days before this I had spoken with him for the last time - oh, had I only known that it was for the last time! - and amongst other things he had said to me, that he could weep his eyes out whenever he considered how often he had offended our dear Lord. O, what a good father was lost to us in him, what a tender husband lost to our mother, what an honest soul and trusty citizen was lost to all who knew him; God comfort his soul in all eternity! His was a toilsome pilgrimage upon earth. Grief and care of every kind, illness and crushing debts dogged his footsteps wherever he went. On Sunday the 28th of March he was accompanied by a large number of people to his resting-place, and laid in the bosom of the mother of us all. Pastor Bosch from Ebnet made his funeral oration, which was full of comfort to his grieving family and dealt of the hidden purposes of God. The dead man was perhaps 54 or 55 years of age.

O how often I was later to visit the spot where he had gasped out his last breath. The place itself afforded me the surest of indications as to how he had met his death. The ground sloped steeply at the place where he had been pulling his small load of wood downhill. The snow bore the weight of his sledge, but at a place where it was soft, as I could still make out quite clearly, he must have caught his feet under the sledge and together with it run hard against a pine-tree, and the shock had stopped his heart. Yet he must have lived for a short while, trying to get free, and in this effort torn his smock.

After this sad parting a heavy burden fell upon myself. There were still four children yet ungrown, for whom I had to fill the father's place. Our mother was always so easy-going and would say "Very well" to anything. I did what I could, though I had already enough to do of my own. Brother Georg took upon himself the running of the household. Out of the hundred guilders that my late father had left me I paid his debts. In my own little house I set up a loom, learnt to weave and in time taught my brothers, so that in the end they were all able to earn their living. My sisters for their part were skilled in spinning Löthligarn, the youngest was learning to sew.

The 10th of September was the first happy day for me after this, for on that date my wife bore me a son, whom I called Uli after my own name and that of my father-in-law

. His godparents were Pastor Seelmatter and Frau Hartmann. I was so delighted with this child that I not only showed him to everyone who came to the house, but called out to every acquaintance who passed by: "I have a boy!" although I knew very well that many of them would laugh at me for it and think: Just you wait, you'll soon have enough of them (as indeed it came about). My good

An earlier account of Hans Bräker's death is given in the Kleine Lebensgeschichte [Chronik, p 23]. It does not differ as to facts but a comparison of the general tone is interesting. Bräker describes the frantic grief of the family: "O what anguish in my heart, I set up a cry, people came up with me, alas, dear father, thy children my brothers and sisters kiss thee for the last time, they embrace thee howling, one carries thee on a sledge to the house from whence thou camest forth in good health..." The rest of the account emphasises the need to submit to God's will. In the later account the feelings are described less starkly and the emphasis is less on God's will than on the virtues of the deceased. This again shows conformity with Enlightenment thinking.